


Push Through!!

by Osomatsus



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: I CANT WRITE NOYA WITHOUT MAKING HIM AND ASAHI A THING IM SORRY, M/M, Training Camp, Volleyball, and in pain, im so gay, like actual volley, the rest of the team - Freeform, theyre all mentioned, theyre all there, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-01
Updated: 2015-11-01
Packaged: 2018-04-29 07:41:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5120405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Osomatsus/pseuds/Osomatsus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Help.” It’s quiet, pained, choked out like it was his last breath, and when sharp honey eyes dart up to make contact with Asahi, the entire world stops.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Push Through!!

**Author's Note:**

> :^)

The whole team was honored to discover that Takeda-sensei got them the chance to experience a personal training camp. Just Karasuno and several professional coaches at a university for 3 days. Everybody was ecstatic. When they were told the news that in just a week they’d be getting professional advice from some of the best coaches in Tokyo, nobody could stop yelling. Especially the four energy, volleyball loving kids.

 

And luckily for everybody, that week zoomed by. Soon enough the team was all gathered at 5 in the morning in from of the gym, ready to get on the bus with their bags and go. The ride was long, but their enthusiasm kept them all occupied. In no time at all they were at the university, getting keys to their rooms. It was a year to a room, the adults, and the managers. But it all worked out.

 

They got an hour to get settled, another to eat and get ready, and a few minutes extra to stretch in the gym before it all began.

 

Day one was a breeze, half of it was just a beginning evaluation of the team. A test of abilities. The drills were constant. They looked at serving, spiking, receiving, blocking, setting, footwork, technique. The boys were tested physically on their abilities. Agility, jumping, reach and flexibility. There was also a short mental test. What you do in certain situations. It was all easy. Then they went to lunch as a break while the coaches figured out a plan.

 

“We’ve decided what to do in terms of training. We have assessed each team member and now will go over their evaluations briefly.” That set all of Karasuno on edge. “Sawamura, your receiving is solid. You’re also good at timing your attacks. However your lesser used skills, blocking and setting, could use work.” Daichi was smiling, absorbing every syllable that was directed at him. “Sugawara, your sets are well fit to those you know. As an all around play however, you could use a bit of improvement. We’ll also help your sets be more precise.” He wasn’t at all upset. Suga was pleased, he nodded, bowed, thanked them and they moved on down the line.

 

Asahi was told he was amazing, Noya that he was phenomenal, a real natural at the sport. Kageyama was recognized as a genius, Hinata as an amazing spiker. The rest of the team was praised as well. Each member was swollen with pride that they could hear this information.

 

The second half of the day was more drills, working on each player and what they could fix. Nishinoya, being a libero, didn’t do much other than what he does on his own. The others benefitted though. That’s what mattered. Either way, Nishinoya would get libero work too.

 

The first day ended with a filling supper. After that they all hung out together having fun outdoors, screwing around. Everybody was laughing, talking and running around. Somehow they had energy. But in the end, they were all worn out by 8 at night and all of them were passed out by 8:30.

 

So then came day two. That day they got to play in a match against each other. However their usual set up was switches. Team One consisted of Daichi, Nishinoya, Ennoshita, Narita, Kageyama and Yamaguchi. Team Two had Sugawara, Asahi, Tanaka, Kinoshita, Hinata and Tsukishima. It was a test for many of the players, getting grouped with those they normally weren’t with. For a while, it was playing matches, then it went back to drills. These were different. Instead everybody was working what they didn’t normally do.

 

Afterward there was another lunch break and then conditioning, stamina training, weight training, and flexibility work. They would run for a while, come back and do push ups, sit ups, wall sits, and stretch. Then they would lift weights, push ups, sit ups, wall sits, stretching. From there out it was stretching. And admittedly it was funny watching the taller guys try to match Nishinoya.

 

Once supper came around they were done for the day and could retire. It was clear now how drastically everybody improved. Nishinoya, however, was curious for when he was getting the libero time block. After all, the spikers got a slot, the setters got one, the blockers did. It was all left to Noya.

 

He felt it was safe to assume it was tomorrow.

 

So after a good night of rest and a well breakfast, the team waz at it again. The morning session went wonderful, everybody was at the top of their game, as usual. The drills went beautifully, their one set practice match lasted to almost 30 points in deuce. It was amazing.

 

After lunch, they were all lined up in front of the coaches who had envelopes. Down the line, all the boys were complimented and given tips to improve. Then they started handing out the yellow envelopes. Each member got one except Nishinoya. “Excuse me!” He was noticed by everybody, all eyes noticing his lack of large packet. “Do I get one?” His eyes were trained on the coach who was smiling at him.

 

“Are you aware of your lack of session?” Noya nodded. “Are you aware of my personal specialty?” Instead of a nod or answer, the coach got a confused look from the libero. He laughed and unzipped his jacket, holding up and envelope. “This is for you.” He smiled as he saw Noya hungrily reach out. “After we’re done. Everybody but the libero can take off their pads and cool down. He has a date with the court.” Nishinoya’s eyes lit up in excitement. Adrenaline began pumping through his veins.

 

Quickly, he got a drink and then got set up on the court. He saw the coach set his envelope down, grabbing a ball cart. He spoke as he made his way to the net. “You know the game. You stop when I say so, though.” There was a gleam in his eyes. His hand held a ball, he bounced it, and then served it.

 

It rocketed right toward Noya. Easily received. The first few would be. Of course he had to roll and slide for short or far balls. But he wouldn’t stop. This was easy work. In fact, Nishinoya was doing this sort of work while at Chidoriyama, being pushed back and forth like this. Just get 10 balls and you’re done. Simple.

 

However after about 15 balls he wasn’t told to stop. And he was slowing down. Drastically. The more he had to run back and forth, the faster he get tired. He wasn’t giving up though. He wasn’t allowed to just give in. Noya had to keep pushing. No matter how hard it felt to keep going.

 

On the sides of the court was his team, cheering him on. There were words of encouragement all around him. To his left. His body shoots out, arm reaching for the ball. He’s late. Again. But the coach doesn’t wait. He sends a ball short, making Nishinoya hiss as his body changes course furiously. It’s almost like his spine snaps in half for him to make it. The ball connects. Barely. It’s on his fingertips, smashing his nails down.

 

He yells when he goes for the next ball. Every time he stands, he’s groaning or letting out yells. Or rather, yelps. Noya barely has time to stand before he has to run to the other side of the court for the next ball. The coach is yelling at him, something about stopping. All Nishinoya can yell is that he doesn’t want to.

 

A ball comes right at him. He’s up, ready. The ball makes contact with his arms and knocks him to his butt again. But he needs to move. Go. Get the ball. He makes a pained sound as he stands and runs for the ball, leaping out even though he watched it bounce already. His small body slides toward his team.

 

There’s a small sound. “Help.” It’s quiet, pained, choked out like it was his last breath, and when sharp honey eyes dart up to make contact with Asahi, the entire world stops. The ace stares at the libero as a few teammates come over. And before he knows it, the world is moving once more.

 

Several sets of hands and reaching out to him, asking questions. He has no time to answer. They’re lifting him up already, right back onto his feet to get the next ball. The only teammate he recognizes is Suga. And Suga looked just as pained as Noya felt. It’s not long until he’s on his feet again. There’s a ball going to the middle back. He rushes out, reaches, stays on his feet, barely gets the touch, and moves to the right side.

 

He gets and easy ball, a break ball, a ball saying ‘catch your breath because the next one is going to the other side of the court’. And he’s off and running, to the other side of the court, after the ball. It’s an overhead throw going out of bounds even. Really, Noya wouldn’t have gone for it. If this were a game, that would be their point. But this isn’t a game, this is training. so now all that’s in his mind is get the ball.

 

Nishinoya watches as the ball comes down, his arm swings up, making contact and sending it back into the court. He feels his leg come off the ground, the other bending. A yell. Out of reflex, his side is what smacks into the floor, his body sliding as he rolls to his back. Then he feels himself end on his side, arm flopping over his face. Again, Noya rolls to his back, moving to sit up. Already a few teammates are there, helping him stand.

 

Hands are on his hips, shoulders, legs, patting him, rubbing him, lifting him. Fury is all over Nishinoya’s gaze as he stands, focusing on the coach. He moves back to the middle of the court, weakly reaching for the ball, breathing heavily. There’s a yell of pain and exhaustion before another ball hurdles at him.

 

The ball falls short, making him fall to his knees, thanking the world for kneepads. He doesn’t get up right away, his hands go down, pressing into the gym floor. His torso bends forward, head almost on the ground as he breathes. Reluctantly, Noya pushes himself back up, for the first time, hearing words spoken to him fully. “Are you done? Is that all you can handle?”

 

He’s completely breathless, barely able to reply. “Please,” Noya begins, not getting time to finish his sentence before a ball goes up.

 

Nishinoya’s feet move. One, two three, arm out, get the ball. He bends his elbow up, sending the ball back. In return, he goes down with it, landing on his stomach, reflexes not going fast enough as he rolls onto his back afterward. He’s letting out loud breaths, completely exhausted now. His arms are outstretched over his head. But it’s not long before he’s pushing himself up again.

 

His legs move him back to the court. From the side he hears Shimizu. “Keep going, almost done!” Of course, there are other encouraging words, but hearing Kiyoko herself cheer him on boosts his spirits greatly.

 

“Come on, Nishinoya!” Suga.

 

“Push through!!” Tanaka.

 

The more he listened the more he heard. All the cheering.

 

“Fight!” Daichi.

 

Noya’s posture is diminished by the time he lazily reaches out for a receive. He doesn’t want to do this anymore. He feels like he could just collapse. Sleeping for a decade would be a great idea. But the ball is heading cross court.

 

Left, right, left, right. His legs move like a cheetah’s, speeding him across in order to get it. In his head was Shouyou. “One more!!” Last ball. You can do it. Push through. This ball is different. Telling himself this was the last one made him move better, faster. His arm was ready for the ball, the other reaching out to catch himself on the fall.

 

With a very loud, hungry and tired yell, Noya’s arm connected, sending it back in, his other hand was on the ground, catching him as he rolled forward over his shoulder and onto his side. Relentless, he rolled swiftly to his side, pushing himself up his hands and knees as two teammates were grabbing his body.

 

Instead of standing this time, he rocked back and forth, tucking his head into the crook of his elbow. Soon enough he feels his forehead touch the wood floor. There are two people around him as he pants desperately, needing air more than ever now. A pair of hands grab his hips, making him lay down.

 

For a while he lays there, moving to get up, he feels his arms grabbed to help. Around him, clapping. After a struggle, he’s up to his feet, bent over and watching his sneaker move him across the floor.

 

He get’s 5 steps before his legs collapse beneath him. Shimizu is on one side, Ukai at the other, behind him his entire team applauds. His knees are moving himself along now, Shimizu and Coach tugging at him. There’s a water bottle at his lips, ready to fire into his mouth when he wants it. Noya never thought he could be in so much physical pain over this sport.

 

Slowly Ukai and Shimizu let him lay down, Coach urging him to drink the water. Noya ignored the pleas though and instead lays his head down, eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of the tears pricking his eyes.

 

The day ended with Takeda having to take Nishinoya’s folder. It was horrible having to watch that happen while he was on Tanaka’s back since he couldn’t even walk. His legs were constantly throbbing and the team just watched. He swore he reached out to them, begging for help. But they never gave it to him.

 

Not to mention after they left, the bus ride back was silent. Nishinoya sat in his own row, legs resting with ice packs and water. The rest of the team was all silent, sleeping of doing other things.

 

Slowly though, he felt a tap on his foot, making him look at it instead of the passing view. Next to his shoe was Suga, smiling. “You’re awake, huh? After all that?” He chuckled, shaking Noya’s foot a bit. “Asahi wanted me to get your attention to talk, I have a date in the back seat with the first years though, so I can’t monitor your PDA.” Noya just blushes and grunts.

 

Hesitantly, he looks up to see Asahi leaning over the seat to stare at him, his peripheral vision catching Suga leaving with a slightly annoyed smile on his face. “There’s room back here.”

 

“I have ice,” he whispers back, looking down to his legs. With a fake puppy whimper, Asahi pats his leg, reaching around the seat to do so, watching Noya in amusement. “‘Sides, I’m tired.”

 

“Ah,” he nods, sitting back up straight again. “Y’know I heard you ask for help… I just didn’t want to mess with you. I was hurting too, everybody was, but we knew you had to finish on your own. Some of us weren’t even watching,” he babbled, noticing finally that Noya was already sound asleep, still worn out from yesterday. With a soft sigh, he sat back, looking out the window. It was going to be a long trip back to Miyagi.

 

**Author's Note:**

> i was crying through all of this i hate myself im so sorry for doing this to my baby boy i love you   
> sorry


End file.
